


Learning the Steps

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Post Trost, Pre Female Titan, Romantic Comedy, Social Requisit, gala - Freeform, kind of, not quite romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 16:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi learns to dance, much to his chagrin. Erwin demands perfection. Eren gets pulled along, and Petra gathers her courage...  Fluffy Comedy. </p><p><i>Excerpt</i><br/>“You have excellent reflexes,” Erwin insisted. “I don’t see why you can’t learn to dance.” He titled his chin just a fraction toward me, inviting explanation.</p><p>“Fighting for the rest of humanity and...dancing..." I scowled at him,"is different.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning the Steps

“Levi,” The commander intoned. Erwin closed the door behind him with a severe expression. 

“No,” I replied (only a bit sourly), though no question had been posed. 

Erwin looked at me those clear blue eyes, and he clasped his hands behind his back. It was almost as though he were standing full attention, but there was little reason to explain this. It’s not like anyone were there but me. 

“…I’m not going back there.” 

Erwin’s lips twitched. “Not afraid of battle, but cowed by a class of dancers?” Erwin asked finally. It was, perhaps, a last ditch effort to get me to agree with his godforsaken plan. 

“Why do I have to dance in the first place? You never explained this to full satisfaction.” I griped. Something about a Gala, sponsors, army image, and the like, and I stopped listening there.

“You have excellent reflexes,” Erwin insisted. “I don’t see why you can’t learn to dance.” He titled his chin just a fraction toward me, inviting explanation. 

“Fighting for the rest of humanity...and dancing," I scowled at him, "...is different,” 

“And yet you never step on a comrade’s feet, so to speak, when it’s necessary. Your movements are always refined—”

“I didn’t step on anyone’s feet!” I aimed the most frigid look I could manage, but he kept on as though I offered a tiny half-smile.

“The Gala would be a wonderful time for the common people to see you out of uniform. To get to know you as someone other than Humanity’s Strongest Warrior. It would offer hope and strength to the people you are sworn to protect.”

Well shit. He’s gone and said it now. I tried to think of another excuse that might top that, and came up blank. Eventually, I settled on, “…I’m not going back to the dance lesson.” Not when they giggled behind ladies’ gloves when I entered the private studio. “I couldn’t make sense of what the shitty instructor was saying,” I paused, “and her voice as annoying as a cat in heat.” 

Erwin looked at me serenely. “Ah. It’s the instruction you had difficulty with. I suppose she was using dance jargon? A double cross, triple time?”

“…you actually know what that shit means?” 

He ignored that. “Well. We can settle that easily.”

“…we can,” I repeated skeptically. “How?” 

He took several steps forward before taking my hand in his much larger one. “I will be your instructor.” 

“….” I stared at him. “…Erwin, we’re both men.” 

“It will do you good to learn the female role. If you understand your partner’s movements, that remarkable muscle memory of yours will pick up the fine details, and you will be able to match pace with your partner’s steps fantastically.” 

“….hell no.” I grumbled, but it was only for show. There wasn’t anyone to see it happening, and he wasn’t going to let me out of it altogether, so I had to learn somehow. 

Erwin finally smiled. It was a small thing, and fleeting. 

“…you’re only leading because I’m shorter, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll be wearing heels to the damn Gala,” I hesitated, “damn it.” It was a lie. Anyone uncomfortable in their skin couldn’t do what I do. Besides, the heels might make me trip. 

“Fashionable, men’s heels,” Erwin agreed.

I snorted. Where did he expect me to find these things? Better not to dignify that with a reply. 

“Hold out your arm just so,” Erwin instructed, “now, this whole dance is a series of counting to six…”

“Yes,” I remarked, “with random ‘two-three’s added in-between…” I drew up closer to him.

“Humans have a tendency to count too quickly,” Erwin nodded. “Follow my lead. For the steps walking sideways, you’ll be putting your weight on your toes, not the balls of your feet. When turning, your weight will be on the ball of your left foot, and toe-heel to match up with your right.” 

We took a few faltering steps in that direction, and as predicted, he started to turn. My ankles though, did not quite appreciate that movement, and when I started falling out of line with him, I automatically started adjusting, pulling him on along with me and walking us a few steps in the wrong direction. 

Erwin cleared his throat. “We had a few good steps there…but you need to not pull my weight. Don’t lean in either, though…but your feet…” he glanced down, “need to stay with mine.”

“I know that,” I grumbled.

“So do it,” he ordered.

I sighed, and we started again. 

“Forward, side, together,” Erwin abandoned his counting, “forward, side, together. Again. Forward, side, to—” 

“Why are we doing this?”

“Because this is the basic step of the Viennese Waltz.”

The words washed over me, and I wondered briefly if that was someone’s family name. It didn’t seem all that important, though, so I let it pass. 

Erwin seemed to notice something in my expression, and he leveled his gaze on me rather than some point in the distance. “…Viennese refers to Vienna. It’s said to be the name of a faraway land…” 

That shithead. What’s he reading banned books for? I closed my eyes and tried not to look annoyed, or worse, worried.

I let my mind wander while we did this for a few minutes. Erwin’s hands weren’t so awkwardly placed—grasping one of mine in an extended position, and the other resting on my forearm. It made for a firm, balanced grip; neither of us was likely to fall no matter how fast we spun or how inexpertly I followed.

“Now, do a half turn…”

“What? When?”

“With the forward, side, together.”

“….like—”

“No, the other way.” Erwin explained patiently. “You should be facing the wall. No, not diagonal, the wall.”

“So we should be aware of when we start the turn, and how far we’re turning.” I nodded, ignoring his superior tone. “Hm. A bit like a formation, isn’t it?” I suddenly had the ridiculous image of horses dancing. 

Erwin let that comment pass. 

After some minutes, he had us practice in the opposite direction. After minutes of the same drill, round and round in circles in his decidedly-not-cleared-for-dancing office, I started to drift off. My feet followed his, and the dance became nearly automatic. 

“Switching this to the man’s role is going to be hell.” I muttered eventually.

“It’ll be easier than you think.” Erwin disagreed. He looked at me and smiled. “Dancing isn’t so different from fighting.”

“…the lady instructor,” I politely left off the shitty adjectives, “said I lacked ‘feeling.’” I argued. 

His lips twitched. “She didn’t know what to look for.”

I ignored that. “She also said I was too stiff.”

“…you’re not stiff with me,” Erwin noted, his eyes lifted gently in the picture of surprise. “Perhaps you were nervous?”

“…hm,” I shifted agitatedly, “let me lead for a while.” I said instead.

Erwin released my hand, lifted his own in a stately fashion, and bowed at an unseen audience. Hell if I’ll repeat that. 

“All right.”

* * *

It turns out that the Jaeger kid can, in fact, be quiet. I nearly missed him coming in while I was practicing on my own. It’s _damned_ difficult practicing a waltz like that, and Eren made an easy target. A few choice words, and he was on his way to dancing with me.

“Uhh…. _heichou_ …don’t you think you should practice with…Petra?” he asked in a small voice. 

I kicked him just under the knees. “Bend down.”

“Er—” he began, “I don’t actually think that me bending down would help you learn the, er—”

“What did you just say, recruit?” I demanded.

“Er, I mean…um…Petra’s not going to be bending, sir!”

“Shut up and dance, Jaeger.” 

“I don’t know the lady’s part…” he complained after we both made a particularly clumsy move. 

“Learning the ladies’ part will make you more aware of your partner’s movement,” I parroted. The brat didn’t know whose words I was borrowing. Just as well.

Eren looked at me hesitantly. “I don’t know about that…” 

“I need a partner. Shut up and do it.”

“Um, _heichou_ , it’s supposed to be a full half turn, not a quarter turn. Like this?” 

I glared at him. “…why do you know how to dance?”

“Uh….” He looked uncomfortable. “My…mom?” 

It was the first I heard of that. “Well. Good. I’m a shitty teacher.” 

Eren didn’t bother correcting me. Shitty kid.

Outside, something made a shuffling noise. Several somethings, in fact. There was soon the sound of cloth being grabbed roughly, as though catching someone by the shirt. Or a convenient hold on a Scouting cloak. 

“ _No,_ ” Petra hissed, her voice getting louder with her agitation, “I should just wait until he asks me. He isn’t used to this, we shouldn’t—” 

“No, no, with that kid as the partner, he won’t learn properly at all.” Of course, it had to be Auruo.

“We should respect his privacy…” Erd said loudly, and I could easily imagine him giving the others a cool look. He would make a good group-leader, I think. 

“Damn right,” I muttered.

Eren looked at me strangely. I don’t know if the kid is deaf, or just stupid. 

“Ahh… _heichou_ …shouldn’t you…I mean…Petra’s right there.” He said awkwardly. 

“They’ll keep arguing for at least another five minutes,” I countered, “practice first.”

Eren sighed. I counted to six. 

After some time, he started to relax, shifting the pattern he learned at his mother’s knee and matching me. His teal eyes were soft, for once. I had to admit—the kid could actually dance; I was vaguely annoyed. 

“…this is relaxing,” Eren said bluntly. 

I snorted. “Shut up. I’m concentrating.” 

Eren laughed. I looked up in surprise—he hadn’t laughed before. 

“ _Ano!_ ” The shout came from the now-open door. “Please allow me to practice with you!”

I turned my head to look back at them. “You lot.” I looked at each of them. “Are noisy.” 

Eren started tensing up again. 

I happily corrected him. “Don’t pull the gentleman’s weight,” I mimicked, “and maintain your space and the balance between us…move into the line of the dance naturally.”

Eren’s eyes narrowed. We did another six steps as near flawless as I’m going to get, and I pulled apart. I turned around slowly, and held out my arm to Petra. 

“The rest of you. Go find something to do…” I glowered darkly. “…before I find something for you.” 

Eren looked at Petra with those soft eyes. And he exited with only a small, “yes, sir.”

* * *

Candlelight and chandeliers. Glass, not crystal… silk and fine linen, lace and leather pumps. The night of the Gala was upon us. 

Erwin smiled at me, looking as comfortable in the new clothes as he always did in uniform. Petra looked nervous, but only those who know her well would be able to tell. The master of ceremonies began to give a speech meant to raise the civilian’s excitement no doubt, and the dancers, as one, held out their hands. I didn’t miss the cue. 

When the music started, and together, each pair took three steps and did a half turn (not a quarter) together. Petra politely ignored the fact that I mouthed the moves as we danced. 

Her eyes were shining. 

As we spun round the large circle, it occurred to me that she wasn’t excited to be wearing a pretty dress, so much as on the verge of _laughter._ My scowl deepened, but I didn’t miss a beat.

“ _Heichou,_ ” she said encouragingly, “you’re doing very well.” 

I scoffed, not bothering to reply. Replies tend to make my steps too fast. 

Finally, the one dance that I was required to do ended. Petra and I stepped out of the circle.

“I’m not doing that again,” I growled, “Erwin said that all the other waltzes are at a different beat…or something…” 

Petra finally gave in and giggled. “You didn’t practice those too?” Her eyes were wide with mischief. 

Erwin saved me the trouble from having to reply, sidling up to me as though it was the most natural thing in the world. I suppose it was. “Nicely played, soldier,” he smiled. “They should be another Viennese waltz at the closing ceremony,” His eyes twinkled. He heard my vow moments before, the sly bastard. “If you’re not going to be dancing…” he allowed. “See that you talk to the sponsors. And a few of the brass,” he leveled a stern look on me. “You’re on duty tonight. Please try to behave.”

I scowled. “They’ll all ask me about Eren,” I growled. Thinking of the poor fool, chained to his bed in the basement, was a sobering thought. The lights and the shining pieces of glass seemed like nothing better than a charade. A diversion from the war going on outside these walls. 

Erwin put a hand on my shoulder. “Speak truly, and you will further the cause so much the better.” He leaned in, and a bit of the humor returned to his eyes. “Just remember…” he straightened. “Always maintain your space…”

“…and the line of the dance. Yes. I remember.” 

I thought back of the hour we spent dancing together, his arms on mine, guiding my feet with words and a strong lead. For that time, I had forgotten everything else. Between the two of us, there was an ideal distance. Intimately close, but not beyond propriety. 

I wondered if there were other dances like that. Only, something with a little more kicking, perhaps, and some intimate embraces between dancers. The thought made me smile…wouldn’t _that_ be something to practice.

* * *

(fin)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty new to the SnK fandom, but I adore it. ♥ If you enjoyed the work, please let me know what you liked. ♥
> 
> Thoughts?


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